Page 70 of Every Time We Touch

“About me?” I tug her closer again. “Or did you want me to come?”

“Next time.” Jen drops my hands and slides hers underneath my top. “Now, about that shower.”

“Lead the way, baby,” I say. Jen had better hurry or we won’t make it into the shower at all—not if her hands keep riding up my belly like this.

“Come on.” Her hands slip down and she hooks her fingers underneath the waistband of my leggings. “Let’s get you clean so I can get you dirty again.”

We rush up the stairs, discard our clothes as though they’re suddenly unbearable and we need to get them off our skin as quickly as possible, then jump into the shower. We’re barely under the water when Jen comes for me, pushing me against the cold, marble wall.

Her mouth crashes into mine, hot and demanding, while her hands glide up my chest. Water streams down her shoulders, over the delicious curve of her breasts, but I barely register any of it because Jen’s kissing me like she’s trying to erase every stressful thing that happened this week.

She pulls back a little and, while looking at me, cups my breasts, her thumbs brushing over my nipples, as she pins me against the wall.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Her voice is rough with lust. “Standing here all wet for me.”

A shiver rolls through me. I grip her waist and drag her closer until there’s not an inch of space left between us. Her skin is slick beneath my palms, and I skate one hand down to her ass.

Jen kisses me again—deep and wet and hungry—and I sink into her. Dancing has always been the surest way for me to let go of whatever I carry inside my body, but this is even better.

Tomorrow might bring new complications. There are still impossible conversations ahead of us. But right now, with Jen kissing me like this, I’m not afraid of any of it.

Jen eases back and slides her hands from my breasts down my sides. Then, she drops to her knees. She looks up at me through wet lashes.

Her hands find the outside of my thighs, sliding slowly up the inside, stopping just short of where I need her most, while her lips trail over my stomach. I thread my fingers into her dripping hair, just to hold on to something, because my legs are already far less reliable than I need them to be.

Jen hooks her hand behind my knee and lifts my leg over her shoulder—opening me up for her completely. She positions my hips to her satisfaction. Like this, open and held and completely at her mercy in the best possible way, the last of the day’s tension leaves my body.

Jen’s mouth finds me and I gasp, my fingers twisting in her hair. She licks me with a focused precision that makes my hips buck toward her despite her hands keeping me exactly where she wants me.

She pulls back just enough to make me whimper, then returns with the same merciless accuracy, like she’s conducting an experiment in exactly how much I can take. My thigh trembles against her shoulder.

I’ve danced in front of thousands of people and never once lost my composure, but Jen’s tongue is dismantling me completely, stroke by stroke. I hear myself make a sound I don’t recognize—something between a gasp and a plea.

The cold wall and her warm mouth are the only things keeping me upright. She varies her rhythm just enough to keep me chasing it, never quite giving me what I’m desperate for.

When she finally gives it to me, there’s nothing left to hold back. The orgasm moves through me like music I know by heart—inevitable, all-consuming, and perfect. My fingers tighten in her hair and I say her name over and over because it’s the only word my brain still remembers. And as the last wave rolls through me and Jen presses one soft kiss against my inner thigh before rising to her feet and pulling me into her arms—the water still streaming down over both of us, but her body warm and solid against mine—I realize that this is what I’ve been afraid of losing most of all. Not just her, but this feeling of being undeniably home with someone again.

My knees still weak, I hold her close. We stand under the water, neither one of us ready to move, getting soaked to the bone.

“Sorry,” Jen whispers after a few more moments. “Looks like I made you even dirtier.”

I lean back a fraction and push a few strands of damp hair away from her face.

“On it,” she says, and reaches for the soap.

We won’t be making it out of this shower any time soon.

Chapter 37

Jen

Nora sets down her wineglass and leans back in her chair. “It is a little preposterous.” She isn’t known for mincing her words.

“It all depends on how you choose to look at it,” Mom says. “I can see why you like her so much, darling.”

They have no earthly idea how much I like Clancy. I’m not sure it’s possible for anyone but me—and her—to understand. Although my mother and Nora both know very much what it feels like to fall in love, even when it’s not easy.

“True.” Nora capitulates quickly. “My Unbreak My Heart costar has a baby with her brother’s ex-wife, so I’m hardly new to this kind of family drama.”